Capture Me: The Complete Trilogy

Chapter 28

28Yulia

The damp heat of Lucas’s breath on my ear makes me quiver, my thighs clenching convulsively to contain the growing ache between them. The treachery of my body adds to the tumult in my mind. I thought I’d have to force myself to endure his touch, but revulsion is the last thing I’m feeling.

Even knowing he’s a heartless monster, I can’t stop wanting Lucas.

His mouth trails over my jaw as he holds me caged against the dresser, and my heart rate accelerates as the hard length of his c**k presses against my belly. “Don’t,” I whisper, my hands bunching into fists at my sides. I can feel the warmth of his powerful body surrounding me, pressing in on me, and my stomach twists with a combination of fear, shame, and longing. “Please… let me go.”

Lucas ignores my words, moving his right hand to my shoulder. Hooking his fingers under the strap of my dress, he pulls it down. His mouth is now on my neck, teasing and nibbling, and my arousal intensifies as his hand slips into the bodice of my dress and cups my breast, the rough edge of his thumb rasping over my n****e.

Heat blooms low in my core, my arousal intensifying even as self-loathing fills my chest. I don’t want to feel this for my cruel captor. I’m not fighting him because I can’t risk jeopardizing my upcoming escape, but I shouldn’t be enjoying this.

I shouldn’t desire the man who plans to kill my brother.

As if reading my thoughts, Lucas lifts his head to gaze down at me. There’s lust in his pale gaze and something else—something dark and intensely possessive.

“No, beautiful,” he murmurs, his hand still on my breast. “I’m not letting you go.”

I begin to respond, but he lowers his head and slants his mouth across mine. His left hand grips my nape, holding me still, and his right hand moves down to pull up the skirt of my dress. In one yank, he rips off my thong. I hardly register the act; his kiss is too ravenous, too consuming. His lips and tongue steal my breath away, and it takes everything I have to remember why I shouldn’t want him. Desperate, I splay my palms on the dresser behind me to keep myself from reaching for him. It’s a small victory and one that doesn’t last long. Still devouring my mouth, Lucas turns around, dragging me along, and begins backing me toward the bed.

The backs of my thighs hit the edge of the bed, and then I’m on my back, my dress hiked up above my waist and Lucas bending over me. His face is taut with hunger, his eyes glittering. Before I can recover from the kiss, he grips my knees, spreading them wide, and moves off the bed to crouch between my open legs.

“No, please, not this.” I try to scramble backwards, but Lucas holds me tight, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed. His lips twitch with an ironic half-smile—he understands why I don’t want this pleasure—and then he buries his head between my thighs and swipes his warm, wet tongue along my slit.

The lash of pleasure is almost brutal. My entire body arches up as he latches on to my clit and begins sucking on it in soft, rhythmic pulls. Gasping, I try to close my legs, to move away from the erotic torment, but Lucas’s grip is unbreakable and his rhythm doesn’t falter. I can feel the slickness of my arousal seeping out, and my n*****s draw tight as unbearable pressure builds inside me, intensifying with every moment.

He picks up the tempo of his sucking motions, his lips squeezing my clit with every pull, and a stifled cry escapes my throat as I feel the orgasm approaching. My brother’s killer… The words whisper through my mind as my body begins to contract in release.

“No, stop!” Without thinking, I jackknife to a sitting position and twist to the side with all my strength, breaking his grip on my thighs. The suddenness of my resistance catches Lucas off-guard, and I manage to scramble on my knees almost all the way across the bed before he leaps after me, his fingers closing around my ankle at the last second.

Acting on instinct, I turn and kick at him, aiming for his face, but he jerks to the side, causing my kick to miss. Before I can try again, he catches my other ankle and drags me across the bed toward him.

“What the f**k, Yulia?” Controlling my flailing legs with his knees, Lucas pins me down and captures my wrists to stretch my arms wide at my sides. His face is rigid with fury, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you that crazy about him?”

I stare at him, breathing hard. My body is throbbing with frustrated arousal, and a toxic cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and anger is boiling in my chest. Fighting Lucas was a stupid move on my part, but coming in his arms would’ve been a horrible betrayal of my brother. “Of course I am,” I bite out, unable to restrain myself. “What the f**k did you expect?”

Lucas’s fingers tighten around my wrists. “He’s nobody to you now.” Rage glitters in his eyes. “Nobody. You belong to me, understand?”

I gape at my captor, uncomprehending. How can he expect me to forget my brother? I know Lucas is possessive, but this demand borders on insanity.

Before I can gather my thoughts, Lucas’s face hardens. Moving swiftly, he drags my right arm over my body, joining my right wrist with the left one. I end up on my side, my wrists held in his left hand as he reaches over me for the nightstand, his heavy weight crushing me into the mattress. Air rushes out of my compressed lungs, but a moment later, he lifts himself up, relieving the pressure on my ribcage. Holding my wrists with his left hand, Lucas looms over me, his lower body pinning mine in place—and in his right hand, I see the reason for his action.

He grabbed a coil of rope from the nightstand.

A chill dances over my skin, my desire dampened by a spike of fear. “What are you doing?” The words come out in a frantic, pleading whisper. “Lucas, you don’t need to do this. I won’t fight anymore.”

But it’s too late. He’s already winding the rope around my wrists, and the old anxiety rises up, choking me with memories of Kirill. The paralyzing terror of the past rushes toward me, but at that moment, Lucas leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m not going to hurt you—but I will make you forget him.”

I draw in a shaking breath, his words providing the modicum of reassurance I need to stay in the present. Not that my anxiety is lessened in any way; what he’s doing and saying is more than a little mad. I begin to struggle again, desperate to get away, but he’s too strong. Ignoring my attempts to throw him off, Lucas ties the rope tightly around my wrists and reaches down to grab my ankles. As he does so, his weight briefly lifts off my legs, and I manage to kick him in the side before he seizes my ankles.

“Oh no, you don’t.” His voice is a low growl as he drags my ankles up, folding my body in half. I strike out with my bound hands, but I don’t have much leverage, and the blow glances off his shoulder as he squeezes my calves in the crook of his muscular arm. With his hands free, he loops the other end of the rope around my ankles. His motions are swift and sure, utterly merciless. In a matter of seconds, he has me trussed up like a turkey, my ankles and wrists tied together in front of my body. With my dress flipped up and my underwear gone, my lower body is completely exposed.

The vulnerability of my position propels my heart rate so high I feel dizzy. Blood pounds in my ears in a thundering roar as Lucas forces my bound wrists and ankles up above my head, stretching my hamstrings to their limits. He secures the rope to the metal pole he installed by the bed and moves down my folded-in-half body. His hands grip my quivering thighs, and I see him looking at me—at my wide-open p***y and ass.

“What are you doing?” I can scarcely breathe through the growing panic in my chest. “Lucas, what are you doing?”

He looks up to meet my gaze, his eyes burning with savage heat. “Whatever I want, baby. Whatever I f*****g want.”

And lowering his head between my legs, he latches onto my clit again.